The Savitar Chronicles - The First Book of Arrow
by noxcaelumscribe
Summary: Iris is dead and the dark road is open. This is the true story of how it happened. Do not listen to the lies.
1. Chapter 1

**THE SAVITAR CHRONICLES**

 **The First Book of Arrow**

 **Chapter 1:Verse 1**

 _Star City, 2017_

Oliver stood in the elevator door to the bunker. Someone sat in the chair on the landing—Felicity's chair—and he knew he should be shocked, angry, frightened, asking who they were and what they were doing. All he could feel was numb. Almost everyone in the world he loved had been on Lian Yu when it exploded two days ago and he still didn't know if any of them survived. All he could do was wait for A.R.G.U.S. to finish canvassing the water where the island used to be and try not to think.

So he stood there, staring at a vaguely familiar head of brown hair, feeling none of the things he should have been feeling. Finally, all that came out was, "Uh. Hi."

The chair swiveled. Barry Allen looked back at him, but his face was burned, one eye beginning to film over with damage. His remaining eye carried a reflection of what Oliver should have felt.

"Barry. What—"

"Iris is dead."

Oliver stepped forward just enough to let the elevator door close and lowered his head. "God, Barry, I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry." Barry's face twitched, then settled. The burns must have been agony. "I heard about Lian Yu." He gestured to the multiple screens showing all four of the local stations covering the story. "I'm sorry I wasn't there to help."

"You had your own problems."

The two of them were silent. Oliver was never the most talkative person in the room, but usually Barry had him covered. Now, though, with Iris gone…. God, Iris was dead. Felicity might be—no, Felicity was a survivor. All of them were survivors. He had to believe they were alive. Two days and no bodies… surely that meant something, right?

He stared at Barry. Barry stared back. Oliver remembered the young man he met four years ago, smiling and goofy even as he carried around the burden of his mother's murder. Right now there was no sign of that Barry and, with Iris gone, Oliver thought it would be a very long time, if ever, before he saw that Barry again. This thought settled in his stomach like a stone made of calcified sorrow. Of all of them, Barry was the one who should never, ever carry a weight like the one Oliver bore.

"Here," he finally said, moving over to their first aid station. "You need something for your face."

He gathered salves, medicines, and bandages, then sat in a chair across from his friend. Barry winced but turned the burned half to him so Oliver could start.

"I'll be as gentle as I can, but it'll hurt."

"I know." Resigned. Defeated. Things Barry Allen should never be.

To his credit, Barry hardly reacted as Oliver spread ointment over the burns. They weren't quite as fresh as Oliver thought at first, so treating them would do little for scarring. He could stop the infection he saw setting in, though, and keep the scars from being too rough. The salve would help, so would the antibiotics the team kept on hand. Being a team of vigilantes meant having to treat your own injuries most of the time.

"Do you want to talk about what happened?" he asked.

"Do you?" Barry snapped back. Oliver felt the line of Barry's jaw tighten under his fingers.

"Not really."

More silence descended as Oliver covered the right side of Barry's face first with the salve, then with bandages. He worked slowly, to avoid having to talk. Talking was… not his strongest skill, as his family and friends—his thoughts stumbled and stuttered as he tried not to wonder how many of them were dead—were fond of pointing out. Especially about feelings.

"Okay, I'm done. We'll change those bandages out three times a day for a while. Meanwhile take these to keep infection from setting in." He handed Barry the bottle of antibiotics. "Twice a day for five days."

Barry nodded, but didn't say anything.

"I thought you were supposed to have some sort of accelerated healing factor." Oliver nodded toward the burns. "Those are at least a day old. Shouldn't you be halfway healed by now?"

Barry's free hand came up to touch the bandages. "Another's speedster's lightning is different. Disrupts the accelerated healing."

"Savitar."

One brown eye glanced at him.

"Cisco's been keeping Felicity updated. She told me." He cleared his throat. "I should have read the most recent ones with Felicity being… out of town… but I've had a lot on my plate the past two days. A lot on my mind."

William was with his maternal grandparents, at least for the moment. Oliver had some vague intentions in that area, but knew his decisions would have major consequences in his life, William's, and the work he did both as mayor and as the Green Arrow. No matter what Oliver decided, right now William was safer with Samantha's parents than in Star City.

"I should go," Barry said, standing. "I still have to find Savitar. Make him pay."

Oliver stood and put his hands on Barry's shoulders. He didn't like the hardness of the other man's voice or the hatred running beneath the surface. "Hey. Listen to me. You need to rest more than anything else right now. I get it." His hands squeezed Barry's shoulders to keep him from bolting. As though he could stop the Flash. "I understand, Barry. Trust me. I do. I also know you're in no shape to fight right now."

Barry made him wait for it, but eventually nodded. Beneath Oliver's hands, his shoulders lost their hardness, muscles released into a fluid defeat. "I… I don't think I can go back to Central City. Eventually, but not yet."

"I understand. You can stay with me. I've got plenty of space," he assured Barry before he could protest. "The mayor's manse is a big house and Thea—" Thea might be dead. Thea might be floating in the ocean in pieces. Thea might be— "Thea became an adult capable of supporting herself a while ago, and it's just been me." Since he moved out of the loft he and Felicity shared. Felicity, who might also be buried under island rubble at the bottom of the ocean.

Barry looked at him and Oliver could see in his eye the same look he knew must be in his own, the look that must have been there when Barry's mother was killed, when Oliver watched his father kill himself in a raft on the sea. The look of someone completely, utterly lost with no idea how to find solid ground. "Thank you."

Oliver found a smile, a small one, but gave it to Barry in hopes that even a small smile might be a lifeline. "Come on. Let's go home."

* * *

 **Chapter 1:Verse 2**

 _Star City, 2017_

 _Two days ago._

Computer keys clacked so fast they made no sound that could be heard by the ears of mortals. He, however, was a god, or at the very least no longer mortal. It didn't matter if he didn't know the passwords or the hacks, he had all the time in the world to do what needed to be done to break into the system.

There. Done.

 _Hey girl. Check this, we changed one of the headlines! Kid Flash caught Plunder, not Flash. If changing all the rest are this easy, saving Iris from Savitar will be cake._

 _In other news, Caitlin's got powers. They're kind of a pain, actually, and we're hoping to find some way of keeping her from going all Killer Frost on everyone. She's scared and I can't pretend not to be all the time. To be real here, she's my best friend and I don't want to lose her. I've lost too much._

 _Enough of the emotions. That's what's happening with Team Flash. What's the 411 on Team Arrow?_

— _Cisco_

The intruder marked the email unread, then went through the rest. Most of them he marked unread and left in place. Toward the end, he found the most recent emails.

 _Girl you are_ not _going to believe this. Savitar is evil Barry from the future. Well not Barry exactly, he's a time remnant Barry created to help him defeat Savitar and apparently Barry created a lot of them and Savitar killed them all except one because he needed that one to go on and become him. Time travel, man, ain't it spooky? We're living in a closed temporal time loop defined by Savitar's existence! I shouldn't be this excited. I'm not excited. This is actually the worst possible thing that could happen and I'm terrified but I guess I'm trying to stay positive by looking at the science._

 _Closed temporal time loop!_

— _Cisco_

He deleted that one. Moved on to the next email, the last.

 _Felicity,_

 _Iris is dead. Barry's not okay and neither am I. None of us are, really._

 _Barry's shut himself up in the time vault. I think he could use a friend or two who weren't there when it happened. If you and Oliver could come for a few days… I know it's hard, Star City needs Oliver, but Barry needs you both right now. Please consider it._

 _The rest of us could use you, too. Cisco misses Caitlin._

 _Love,_

 _Joe._

He hesitated. Read the lines again. Looked for the love other people would see in them, but he couldn't find it. To him, the words spoke only of loss and a desire to foist that pain off on someone else. _Please take this responsibility away_ , he read over and over. Maybe Joe had loved him, once. Maybe some of the dissolution of their relationship with his doing as well as Joe's, but not all of it. Not all of it, damn it.

Iris did more to keep them all together than any of them realized, until it was too late.

He hardened his jaw and his heart, then erased the email. Someone would be able to find it later, but it wouldn't be until much later and much too late.

* * *

 **Chapter 1:Verse 3**

 _Flashback: Central City, 2021_

Barry groans and rolls from his back onto his side. Everything hurts. Even his eyeballs hurt. Is that his spleen throbbing from inside his abdomen? Has to be. Why can't he see—oh that's just a brick wall in front of his face. How did he end up face-first to a wall, anyway? Barry places his hand on the wall and, gritting his teeth, begins to leverage himself to his feet.

Savitar.

The jolt of memory does more than the wall as he bolts straight up in a jerk of lightning and fear. Savitar. He remembers, they were fighting the armored speedster, planning to trap him with Dr. Brand's gizmo. He remembers running at Savitar and getting a metal hand to the face for his troubles, flying through the air and hitting the wall. So, that explains that. What it doesn't explain is why he's out here now, all alone, and no one on the team is there with him.

He stumbles backward, into the line of garbage cans between him and the street. They must have hidden where he fell, but that doesn't explain why he's alone. The team could always hone in on the suit's telemetry to find him.

They left him on purpose.

 _They left you on purpose._

He shakes the voice out of his head and turns toward S.T.A.R. Labs. They would never leave him on purpose; something must be wrong with the suit. Maybe the circuitry was damaged when he hit the wall. It wouldn't be the first time.

Everything still hurts as he starts running, though it's hurting less. Thank the Speed Force for accelerated healing. Who knows what his body would look like at this point without it. The few scars that have stuck around show the potential for the mess his body could be, something too similar to Oliver's for his liking. He never wanted to be that kind of hero, the kind fueled by darkness and anger. The past four years he's come closer than he wanted, but hopefully that's over.

Please God, let it have worked. Let Savitar be little more than a bad memory that sometimes comes in the middle of the night. Let it be over, so they can all get back to their lives. What lives they have.

 _You haven't been there for them_ , he thinks as he turns into the doorway to S.T.A.R. Labs towards to cortex. _That changes now_. _You can start by getting a haircut._

The cortex is empty. He's not entirely surprised. With all of Team Flash's resources and energy going toward the capture of Savitar, the fighting of criminal metas had long since been relegated to the CCPD's Anti-Meta Crime unit, under Joe's leadership. Still, shouldn't there be some sort of celebration with Savitar gone? Unless it hadn't worked. Barry turns and looks around, frowning.

"I thought you were in the time vault."

He turns. There's Joe, looking haggard. He hasn't looked well since… since then.

"I don't—what happened? Did it work? Why did you all leave me there?"

For a moment Joe looks just as confused as he feels. Then there's a dawn of understanding and a sigh as he shakes his head and turns away. "I guess he didn't kill all of you. I'm sorry. You should go to the time vault and have a chat with yourself."

"Joe?"

Joe just waves a hand dismissively over his shoulder as he walks away. "I have to get back to Wally."

The time vault. Barry goes there not just because Joe said he should but because he's beginning to remember more about what happened and has a terrible feeling in the pit of his stomach. A stone of truth sitting in his gut, telling him everything he doesn't want to know, but he can't accept it until he's seen it for his own eyes.

The door is already open. Inside is a man standing in front of the pedestal and the glowing shimmer of the future news story. Barry sees the byline that no longer belongs to Iris West-Allen, feels the old wound in his heart tear open again. The other man turns. There should be a glimmer of surprise in his eyes, or anger, or something. There's not, just emptiness. The original Barry Allen looks himself up and down and turns away again.

"I thought he killed all of you."

"No," he answers. The weight of it drags him downward until he's sitting against the wall. "I was just knocked unconscious behind some garbage cans. I thought everyone left me." He laughs the laughter of a man who has realized he isn't real. "You did. All of you. You just left me."

"You're just a time remnant. You were supposed to die."

The words feel like Oliver's arrows thunking into him one by one.

 _You're just a time remnant._

Oliver's arrows hurt less.

 _You were supposed to die._

* * *

 **Chapter 1:Verse 4**

 _Secret A.R.G.U.S. Facility, 2017_

 _One day ago._

As Director Lyla Michaels marched down the corridor of the Star City A.R.G.U.S. facility, all the agents in her way took one look at her face and decided elsewhere was the place to be; all of them knew she should be out on the search for her husband's bod—her husband. None of them wanted to know why she was not and none of them wanted to trade places with the unlucky agent who had called her away from that search.

That agent was one Miranda Nguyen, who spent the two hours between her call and Director Michaels' arrival steeling herself for the confrontation. Director Michaels did _not_ like being called away from the Lian Yu search, but she was going to like Agent Nguyen's news even less.

The door opened and slammed again behind Lyla. "If this isn't a matter of homeland security, Nguyen, I just might consider reinstating Waller's Suicide Squad."

Nguyen winced, but to her credit did not make excuses. "Our supply of strange metal was stolen this morning."

"What."

The word came out so flat it wasn't exactly a question, though Director Michaels obviously expected an answer. She stepped up to the screen where Nguyen had security footage playing on a loop. The Director watched as the box containing their supply of strange metal simply vanished. "That's not—" As she continued watching, she noticed some papers flutter on the table next to the strange metal container. So did the lab coats hanging on the wall nearby, and the hair of the lab tech standing opposite that table. A pencil rolled two centimeters.

Lyla cursed. She cursed because she knew the only thing that could do something like that and because she knew the only person capable of doing that had already attempted to steal from A.R.G.U.S. recently. That she'd then simply given him what he wanted made this betrayal all the more humiliating.

Except Barry wasn't that fast. Oh, he was fast all right, but not fast enough to enter and leave a room—let alone an entire facility—without being seen at all. He still trailed lightning behind him, which would be somewhat noticeable, and tended to leave a mess of fluttering papers.

Lyla pulled out her phone before remembering she couldn't call Oliver. Not when she was supposed to be investigating Mayor Queen's involvement in the destruction of the island on which he'd been stranded for five years. She couldn't contact him in any unofficial capacity until this was over and attention had been diverted elsewhere. She also couldn't go to Central City to investigate Barry herself; even if she wanted to, she couldn't leave the search for more than a few hours.

"Director?"

She blinked. She'd forgotten Agent Nguyen was there. "Yes, Agent?"

"Um, I'm guessing you've noticed the displacement of certain items in the room. Like from a passing breeze. Or a speedster?"

Lyla narrowed her eyes. "What do you know about speedsters?"

"Oh, I-I, um." Nguyen blushed all the way to the roots of her hair. "I've been studying the science behind them. Well, the Flash. He fascinates me—I mean, speedsters fascinate me."

Lyla considered. She couldn't go to Central City herself, but someone had to go and hopefully absolve Barry of this particular theft incident. Besides, she wanted to know how things had turned out. She hoped Iris was all right. If this was Barry's doing, Lyla just hoped it was due to some hare-brained scheme and not because of something related to Iris or Savitar.

"All right, Nguyen, I have an assignment for you. I need you to go to Central City and contact members of the Flash's team."

Nguyen gasped and held her breath until Lyla thought she would pass out.

"Calm down. I don't know the Flash's identity," she lied. She lied smoothly these days. "I just know the identities of a couple of the people who work with him." She tapped out the information on her phone and sent it to Nguyen via text. "Dr. Caitlin Snow is the first person you should try to contact." Caitlin had always been the voice of reason with the most practical head on her shoulders. "But if you can't find her, you can talk to Cisco Ramon instead. I trust you can get the information we need without revealing too much of A.R.G.U.S.' business?"

Nguyen nodded vigorously. "Yes, Director!"

Lyla nodded. "Good." Nguyen was young and untried in the field, barely out of training, but she was smart and obviously attentive. She'd noticed the signs of a speedster when few others would have.

"Director? Why do you think the Flash might have stolen the strange metal?" Nguyen really was much younger than Lyla realized at first, or perhaps it was just the naive trust in her eyes. "I mean, he's a hero. He wouldn't steal anything he didn't _really_ need, right?"

"Let's hope so. Now go. I have to get back to the helicopter and the search ship."

Lyla left the facility feeling even more off-center than she had when she went in. Something wasn't right, something felt _wrong_. She couldn't pinpoint what it was, exactly, just that her military and government experience told her not to trust anyone right now.

Not even her friends.

* * *

 **Chapter 1:Verse 5**

 _Star City, 2017_

Oliver sighed as he hit the button on his office phone. "I'm not taking any more calls today unless they're from city council members or other government officials."

"Yes, Mayor Queen." Audrey would take care of it. He could count on her. She had come highly recommended and if she ever decided to leave his employ she would have a glowing recommendation from him as well. Very few people on the planet could get past Audrey, either by phone or in person. She took her duties seriously and worked tirelessly to ensure he was able to do _his_ work.

A thought crossed his mind and he hit the button again. "Audrey?"

"Yes, Mayor Queen?"

"Unless it's Susan Williams. Let her through."

"Of course."

Audrey knew, of course, about the brief relationship between him and Susan Williams. So she also knew why Susan would be the only reporter allowed to speak with him at this time. If she attempted to contact him. She might not, considering how they left things, but denying interviews with all others would almost guarantee she'd have to try for an exclusive. If she did, he planned to give it to her.

Until then, the rest of them could speculate all they wanted about the meaning of Lian Yu's eruption, his involvement, or the reasons behind many of his friends and family being on the island. None of them knew all the names, but everyone basically agreed on the presence of his sister and Deputy Mayor Lance. Beyond that, they had little to go on except some intel gathered somehow to tell them the government agency handling the search and rescue was searching for more than two bodies or survivors.

They also had wind of the little boy who was present, but thank God they hadn't been able to identify or find him. Yet. Another reason he wanted Susan on the story. He could trust her to be discrete.

He thought about calling Barry at the mayor's manse to see how he was doing, but doubted he would even answer the phone. Barry hadn't been very talkative all night and while Oliver understood why it still worried him. Oliver had a darkness inside him he had embraced, but wished he could cleanse. In Barry, he had always seen an unconquerable hope no matter the shadows that came crawling and it gave him hope he could one day be different. Lighter. More like Barry.

Now, Barry seemed broken.

 _Can you blame him? Can you say you'll be better off if the news about Felicity is… is bad?_

His cell phone vibrated. Startled, Oliver realized he'd been sitting at his desk just staring into space for at least twenty minutes. He took out the phone and his heart stopped when he saw Lyla's name across the screen. That could only mean one thing.

"Lyla?"

"We found two," she said. He could tell by her tone that A.R.G.U.S. had found bodies, not survivors. "I'm sorry, Oliver."

He closed his eyes. She waited for him to gather the courage to ask. It couldn't be John. Surely Lyla would not sound as calm as she did, not even Lyla could, if it were John. "Who?"

"Samantha Clayton."

"God." How could he explain to William that his mother would not come home ever again? "And?"

"Quentin."

He hung up without saying anything else. What was there to say when his deputy mayor and the mother of his child were dead? Now he had to explain to two children about a lost parent and it didn't help at all that one of them was an adult. Sara still dealt with the loss of Laurel. Oliver covered his mouth with one hand as he wondered how well she would be able to deal with this. "I'm so sorry, Sara," he whispered to the empty room.

* * *

 **Chapter 1:Verse 6**

 _Flashback: Starling City, 2012_

The man with half a face appears in a bolt of lightning, one moment not there and there the next. Simon barely reacts. He barely feels anything. Grief has left him numb.

His father is dead. Murdered.

"I understand you," says the half-faced man. "My mother was murdered when I was a child. You're older. You won't fair as well."

Simon looks away from the window and the city beyond. Starling City, where his father made his fortune and lost his life. Starling City, where evil is always rewarded and good is punished. They say the Hood is a vigilante, fighting for justice. They say he goes after the most corrupt. Was his father corrupt? It doesn't matter. Not to him, not ever. All that matters is that his father is dead.

The half-faced man tilts his head, peering into Simon's eyes. He's a young man beneath the scars and rage. Simon has to be at least a decade older than the kid standing in front of him, except there's more pain and anger in his one good eye than Simon can remember experiencing in his entire life. Until now.

"Do you want justice?"

Simon shakes his head before he knows he meant to respond at all. Justice is what they call the Hood, and if that's justice then Simon wants no part of it.

The stranger smiles. "Do you want revenge?"

At the word, a well of rage surges within Simon's chest. It wasn't there only a moment before, but now it is, hot and insistent. Does he want revenge?

 _Yes._

"Good. I'll help you, I'll give you everything you need to begin. First, though, I need a promise from you." The man holds up a finger.

"What promise?" His voice comes out in a rasp.

"Don't kill his loved ones one by one." He smiles and in it Simon sees a fury to match his own, dampened not at all by the cold in his eye. "Save them for a grand endgame finale. Save them for something where the bodies will take days to recover. Understood?"

Simon closes his eyes and breathes in deep the air of his new reality. A calm settles over his shoulders and head, into his mind. His heart still churns in turmoil, but his mind is clearer than it has been in days. It's as though this young man in front of him has opened a door in his brain to a world he only glimpsed before but never dared enter. Inside that door lay ideas and thoughts he had always known would seem… wrong… to others and also knew would one day seek an outlet.

"Understood."

"Good. The man you want is named Oliver Queen."

Simon's breath whistles between his teeth. Oliver Queen is not a nobody who can be disposed of easily and quietly. He's a goddamn celebrity billionaire, all the more a celebrity since his miraculous return from death.

"I see you understand the implications."

"This will take time."

The man nods. "And cunning. But I know you have it in you. I've seen it." The man moves to go, then turns back to him. "One more thing."

Simon listens, drinking in the information given him as parched soil drinks in the rain. He can almost see his future unfurl before him like a red carpet guiding him to victory. Talia al Ghul, yes, he will do as his mysterious benefactor says: He will seek her out in three years' time when she is ready and until then will study Oliver Queen and the Hood, and learn all he can about them without Talia's more intimate knowledge.

He opens his eyes. "You know him, too," he says, convinced of the truth of his own words. "You could tell me the same information."

His benefactor chuckles. "I do. I could. But that would be too easy and time doesn't like easy. Trust me." He turns to emphasize the only partially healed burns covering the right side of his face.

Then he's gone, trailing lightning, leaving behind him a changed Simon Morrison.


	2. Chapter 2

**THE SAVITAR CHRONICLES**

 **The First Book of Arrow**

 **Chapter 2:Verse 1**

 _Star City, 2017_

Oliver wanted to take Barry with him to the A.R.G.U.S. medical examiner's office to identify the bodies, because he wanted moral support. In the end, he didn't, because he didn't know how well his friend would deal with it after his own loss. So Oliver went alone. _This is it_ , he thought. _This is your fate. To be alone._

Lyla stood at the door to meet him, her face a mask of impassive force. She would show no emotion while they searched for her husband out on the water and show no mercy to anyone who had helped Adrian Chase if they found them. Evelyn had been on the island as well, and much deeper into the conflagration than any of Oliver's people. The likelihood of her survival was extremely slim. He'd tried so hard to convince her Adrian didn't care for her. Maybe he just had to accept that in the end he had no control over other people's choices.

Lyla reached out. Oliver took her hand in his and they stood together a moment.

"Anything?"

She shook her head. The lines around her mouth pulled tight. "Nothing. I don't know how we wouldn't at least… find something. It's been two and a half days. We should be finding more."

Oliver nodded, knowing what she meant but wouldn't say. Body parts. They should be finding parts at least, evidence of bodies if not full bodies. This was a nightmare from which he wished he could wake them both.

"Lyla, I… I'm so sorry for this. For getting John mixed up in my—"

She put a hand over his mouth to silence him, but the steel in her eyes would have sufficed. "No. Don't you dare. Not right now. Just go."

Oliver nodded and left her to enter the place he most dreaded. Really it was a damn miracle he hadn't been in more morgues in his life. There was never a morgue for his father, or Yao Fei or Shado. Akio had not been his to visit. Laurel died in a hospital room, and Sara, well. Sara was Sara and defied expectation.

Inside lay the two bodies A.R.G.U.S. recovered from the sea surrounding the remains of Lian Yu. Oliver closed his eyes against the image of Samantha and Quentin burned over most of their bodies, and Samantha without her right arm. These were bodies, corpses, but they had once been people he cared about and he had no desire to see or remember them like this. Yet, it was his duty as the mayor of Star City… and more, as the Green Arrow and as a friend, to officially identify them so they could go home and have proper services.

So he opened his eyes again.

Thank God, someone closed their eyes before he arrived. He didn't think he could handle either of them staring blankly at him. He had already seen too much death and too many dead eyes in his life. They were covered up to their chins by hospital sheets, but the sheets did nothing to hide the extent of the damage, he was too well-trained to take in as much detail as possible as quickly as possible. The slump of the sheet told him about Samantha's missing arm and he didn't miss how the burned tissue disappeared beneath them.

"I'm so sorry," he said to the empty air. There would be no response, no release from responsibility for him this time. These deaths were on his head no matter what anyone else said.

Oliver turned away and went outside to Lyla. Confirming the bodies as those of Quentin Lance and Samantha Clayton was just a formality. Soon the announcements would be all over the news. He had to go to Samantha's family before then, to William, and somehow explain to his son that his mother would never come home again.

Then he had to contact Sara, somehow. He didn't know exactly what Felicity had done to get the attention of the Legends during the Dominator invasion, but he could probably figure it out, given time. Still, he didn't like thinking about it.

He didn't want to think about what the White Canary would do in the wake of further loss.

* * *

 **Chapter 2:Verse 2**

 _Flashback: Central City, 2021_

Barry knocks quietly. Joe looks up from his book, looks him over, then back down. There's a fire in the fireplace and Wally is set up in his chair far enough to not be in danger of any stray sparks but close enough to hopefully feel some of the warmth and comfort. In four years the young man hasn't moved of his own accord or spoken a single word. Barry goes to him and puts a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey, buddy," he says quietly.

"What are you doing here?" Joe asks without looking up again. He tends not to look Barry in the eye. Not since he found out who—or what—this Barry actually is from Cisco and the other.

"I just came to visit Wally and you. I thought we should talk."

"Don't know what there is to talk about."

"I don't know. Everything." Barry sits on the chair where the sofa used to be. Most of the furniture has been moved out to make room for Wally's medical equipment, including his wheelchair. "We haven't really spoken much since Iris—"

Joe slams the book shut. "You and me? We haven't talked at all, you didn't exist before two weeks ago."

"I did, Joe. I did exist. I'm Barry." Why can't anyone just listen to him? Why can't Joe listen to him instead of the others? "I lived everything he did. I was there when Iris died," Joe makes a sound of protest but Barry keeps on going. "I was there when Wally was hurt. I remember all of it and I lived it. Why can't you see that? I just… I know _he_ hasn't been here. Which is awful, Joe, because you know what? He made a promise. I made a promise to Iris that if it went badly I would be there for you. So I'm here. I'm here and I'm trying. Which is more than what he's doing."

Joe sits for a moment, staring into the flames of the fire. His eyes glimmer with unshed tears and they are so far away, so distant. Barry's stomach clenches with fear. He thought if anyone would understand and be able to accept him it would be Joe, but it seems he was wrong.

"Listen, I just…." Joe shakes his head. His hand gestures aimlessly. "I can't deal with any of this right now. I have a son to take care of and another lost in his own grief. Maybe you're here, but you're not the one who needs to be here."

"Right." Barry stands, shaking his head. None of this feels real. It's like some surreal other world, some other Earth or timeline where no one knows him and he doesn't know them. Everything is so, so wrong but there's nothing he can do to fix it because this is his world. It's his Earth, his timeline, it just broke the moment Savitar killed Iris. "I guess I don't belong anywhere anymore."

He waits a moment. Waits for Joe to say something, anything, to assure him he's wrong and does belong here. Joe says nothing.

"I'm sorry I intruded."

Joe opens his book again. Barry leaves.

He has a place to go. The loft, full of memories of Iris. He can stay there because his other self does not; the other lives at S.T.A.R. Labs, consumed with grief and the need for vengeance.

While it is his home, it doesn't feel welcoming anymore. It's a place to stay, but it isn't a place to belong.

Belonging is out of his reach.

* * *

 **Chapter 2:Verse 3**

 _Star City, 2017_

Oliver smiled when the door opened, though he didn't feel the smile in his bones. It was his mayor smile, the one he wore no matter what in the face of political firestorms. He wore it now because he didn't know how else to arrange his face for this meeting.

"Mrs. Clayton, hello."

"Mayor Queen," she said. The Claytons were civil to him, but always stood at arms' length. He couldn't blame them after his mother paid off their daughter to move away and keep the secret of her son's parentage. He couldn't blame them at all for wondering about his motives in reappearing more than a decade later. "If you're here to see William he's with the neighbor's boys."

"Ah, no, actually. I thinks it's best he's not here right now." Oliver swallowed and lowered his voice. "I… have news. About Samantha."

He saw the moment she understood, because he saw deep in her eyes when something inside broke. Mrs. Clayton nodded and stood back for him to enter, but she did so listlessly.

"I'll get my husband," she whispered.

Mr. Clayton took the news about as well, which was to say not well at all. With the death of Moira Queen and Oliver finding out about William, the Claytons had only just received word their daughter was alive and well _and_ news of their grandson's existence. Sadly, Oliver could imagine only too well what it felt like to lose her now, after thinking her dead for a decade. Oliver had too much experience with pain not to be able to imagine it. The problem was he could do nothing to fix it or take it from them, which is what he set out to do as Green Arrow first, then Mayor Queen.

To take away pain. To make Star City better.

Adrian Chase had shown him how very little he'd accomplished in pursuit of that goal. Now he sat in the Claytons' living room waiting for their response to the news that their daughter was well and truly dead this time.

"Thank you for telling us," Mr. Clayton finally said. His hand rested on his wife's shoulder, and hers had come up to grasp his. They held each other tightly. Oliver looked away, because it made him think of Felicity. He couldn't think about Felicity right now. "I suppose," the man continued, "you want to speak of custody arrangements."

Oliver took a deep breath. "I've been thinking about that a lot. I do want to be part of William's life. I would like that very much, but… I feel he's safer if I'm not."

"What do you mean, safer?" Mr. Clayton demanded. Mrs. Clayton seemed frozen by grief, unable to say anything.

"As you both know, my campaign and then my administration as Star City's mayor haven't been exactly without danger. I've been shot at, had my loved ones shot at, killed, then kidnapped and taken to the one place on Earth that scares me more than the city council chambers." It was the best explanation he'd come up with for why so many of his friends and family had been on Lian Yu and why it exploded. "I'm trying to make this city better while a lot of people benefit from the way it is now. This won't be the last time the people I love are put in danger and I—" He stopped, swallowed, and continued. "I couldn't live with myself if the next time it was Wi—" He stopped again. He couldn't say it. He could imagine it in too much bloody detail; he'd always had a vivid imagination and his five years away had turned it toward the gruesome.

"We understand."

Oliver looked up to find the Claytons looking at him, finally, with some measure of compassion. Not complete acceptance, but he didn't expect that from them. Compassion was enough.

Oliver stood and straightened his suit jacket. "I think it's best if you do what Samantha did. Take William and disappear. Tell no one where you're going and don't go to family. Go somewhere you have no ties and have never been before."

Mrs. Clayton stood and moved to him, both her hands out. Grateful for the gesture, Oliver took her hands in his. They both squeezed firmly. "Thank you. For making this sacrifice for him. It shows you care about him, even if you didn't love his mother."

Oliver nodded, then left his head bowed. He couldn't deny that he had never loved Samantha. Not at all, let alone in any meaningful way. To his younger, ignorant, infinitely stupid self, Samantha had been a beautiful girl he wanted because she was beautiful and he was Oliver Queen and somehow knowing he could have any girl he wanted made him desperate to prove it.

"I am so sorry for what I've done to your family," he whispered. "For what my mother did to your family. All I can do to try to atone is do my best now to keep you safe. All of you."

Mrs. Clayton released his hands to reach and tilt his head where she could see him. He opened his eyes for her, knowing what she wanted. She peered into him for a very long, uncomfortable moment where he believed she could see all the deepest, darkest, worst parts of him. Perhaps she could. In the end, his judgment wouldn't come of the courts of law or in the jail houses. It would come on the streets and in the hearts of those he worked to save.

"I believe you've already done five years of atonement, Oliver Queen," she finally said. "I can see you're not the boy who left on his father's boat."

He nodded, looking down again. His eyes filled with tears because he was grateful for her words, but also because he was reminded of his own mother, as flawed as she'd been. "Thank you. You don't know what that means to me."

"I think I do, a little."

Oliver grasped her hands again, held them firmly in thanks. "Leave as soon as possible. As soon as William gets home."

"What should we tell him?" Mr. Clayton walked up behind his wife. "About why we're leaving. About you."

"Tell him… tell him his father loves him and that's why you have to go. He may not understand it right now but I can only hope he'll understand it some day."

Mrs. Clayton hugged him. Mr. Clayton was not the type of man to hug which was fine with Oliver. They shook hands, however, and Mr. Clayton nodded to him with a jaw firmly set against emotion. Oliver recognized the look enough from the mirror to know he had been, at least on some level, accepted. Letting go of William was the best thing he could do to win them over, because if he didn't some part of them would always wonder at his motives.

"Goodbye, Mr. And Mrs. Clayton."

"Goodbye, Oliver."

He left their house relieved of one burden but as always heavy with another. The Oliver Queen who left on the Queen's Gambit might have thought of this as unfair. This version—older, wiser, and far more broken—understood there is no such thing in life as fair or unfair.

There is only what you live through and what you don't.

* * *

 **Chapter 2:Verse 4**

 _Star City, 2017_

Oliver went home instead of the office. Audrey took his call to inform her of his short day with all the grace of an angel and dutifully promised to cancel all his afternoon appointments. He'd have to buy her a nice bouquet of flowers. No, probably not appropriate. God, but he wished Felicity were here. She would know the proper thing to do.

"You know," came a voice from the parlor, "Felicity and I kissed once."

Oliver turned to the source. Barry stood in front of the mantel, looking at the pictures there of Oliver's most cherished loved ones, almost all of whom had been on Lian Yu when Adrian Chase shot himself in the head. The only ones safe from that conflagration were only safe because they were dead: his father and mother, Tommy, Laurel. The mantel acted as a shrine to all the ones Oliver meld most dear, dead and alive. Now, he didn't know if any of them were left alive and if this would turn solely into a shrine for the dead.

Oliver cleared his throat. "Oh?"

"Yeah. It was a long time ago. Just after I got my speed." Barry turned so his left eye, his good eye, peered at Oliver over his shoulder. The smile on his face made Oliver uneasy in a way he couldn't place. No, he _could_ , but didn't want to place. It was the same smile given by so many enemies over the years, all of them delivering some bad news, or supposed shocking revelation about his own past or personality. It was the same kind of smile Adrian Chase wore as he forced Oliver to admit the darkest secret of his soul. It was a cruel smile. A villain's smile. Oliver took a deep breath to wash the thought away. This was _Barry_ for God's sake.

"I see."

Barry shrugged and turned back to the pictures. "It was something like a good-bye kiss. Because we knew we were perfect for each other but neither of us could let go of the other people we loved instead. Iris. You."

Oliver stepped up and put a hand on Barry's shoulder. He was surprised to feel the muscle's tense as though Barry meant to turn and attack him. "Maybe it's time for you to go home," he said. "Central City needs the Flash, but more importantly your friends need you. Joe needs you."

"They don't need me."

The bitterness in those words made Oliver turn Barry around to face him. Barry allowed it, but wouldn't look at him.

"Hey. Barry, look at me." Oliver waited until his friend complied. He saw a deep well of pain and anger in Barry he recognized. Pain, anger, and something else he was unwilling to name. "Your friends need you," he repeated. "Cisco, Caitlin, Joe."

Barry rolled his eyes, which settled condescendingly on Oliver's face. "Felicity must not have told you the details. Caitlin doesn't exist anymore. She's Killer Frost now."

Oliver didn't let that piece of news deter him. "All the more reason for you to go back. When you get her back, and you will, Caitlin will need her friend more than ever." Oliver set his jaw. Of all the things he learned during his five years away from home, and in his five years since returning, the fact that stubbornness got him further than anything else was high on the list. Most of the time he found simply refusing to back away from his position was enough to make others back down. Of course, more recently he'd also figured out he shouldn't always do this, and sometimes he should actually listen to other people. Still, he liked to bring out the the stubborn jaw set when needed because it generally worked. "Joe has to be hurting just as much as you are."

Barry looked away again.

"What about Iris' funeral?" Oliver pressed on. Something here was not right and as painful as it might be for both of them he intended to find out what it was. "Is Joe planning it all by himself? Are you just going to abandon him?"

"Abandon _him_?" Barry roared. Oliver found himself pressed against the wall with Barry's arm against his throat. There'd been no warning, no sign of Barry's usual tells. The room around them had barely been stirred by Barry's movement. "You don't know the meaning of abandonment." His arm against pressed hard against Oliver's windpipe. For the first time since he knew Barry had powers, he was afraid of him.

 _No, it's not the first time_.

Back when that meta-human—Prism or Rainbow Raider or whatever ridiculous thing Team Flash called him—whammied Barry with his rage-inducing power… that had been terrifying. Oliver had not dared to show just how much Barry scared him then because he couldn't afford to show fear, ever. But that had been the first time Oliver understood just how dangerous Barry could be if he ever turned.

He hadn't worried about it since, not really. Because Barry was Barry. More than once, he'd shown Oliver and the world how he would never let the darkness overcome him. Except….

He'd had Iris, then.

Oliver tried to breathe in enough to gasp Barry's name, get his attention. He couldn't. The edges of his vision closed in as oxygen deprivation threatened to steal his consciousness. This was how it ended for him? He had always thought he would die out on the streets of Star City when his luck ran out. Not strangled in his own home by one of his friends. He clawed at Barry's arm.

Just as the last of his vision went, he saw Barry blink and some kind of sanity return. Barry let him go and backed away. Gasping and coughing, Oliver sank to the floor. He looked up, saw Barry standing over him with an odd expression. In previous times Barry would have apologized. For a moment, Oliver thought he would.

"You don't know a damn thing about what I'm going through or what I need," is what he finally said. "You don't know Joe, or Caitlin, or Cisco. You never took the time to really get to know any of us." The look in his eye is the same from back then, when he was influenced by Prism. Only this time there's no meta to blame for it. "You think you know everything about pain and suffering because of what you went through. You think you can dictate to everyone how they need to act. Here's a newsflash for you, Oliver, you _don't know everything_. And you sure as hell have no right telling me what to do."

Oliver had no response to that, even if he could breathe. Barry vanished, leaving Oliver alone with his own wheezing and a growing fear of what was happening to his friend.

* * *

 **Chapter 2:Verse 5  
**

 _Star City, 2017_

 **Star City Mudslinger - the Premier Blog for All Your Star City Celebrity Gossip!**

 **Date Him or Ditch Him?: Oliver Queen**

—Angeline Carter

Ever since his miraculous return from death five years ago, Oliver Queen has gone from dreamy bachelor to suspected criminal to-off-the-market to the most eligible Mayor of Star City. What a roller-coaster ride of fame for Star City's favorite son.

Most recently, the citizens of our fair city have been inundated with the news of an explosion in the North China Sea that just so happens to have been at the location where Oliver Queen was stranded for five years. The more we learn, the stranger the entire situation becomes. Not only did the entire island of Lian Yu explode, but it seems as though every single person with a close connection to Oliver Queen was on the island when it did. Sources say the U.S. military is involved with the search for bodies, probably because one of the missing-and-presumed-dead is our very own Deputy Mayor Quentin Lance.

Authorities have been tight-lipped and so has the mayor himself, but questions have to be asked. What was Mayor Queen doing back on the island that stole five years of his life? What were his family and friends doing there?

Most importantly, why did the island explode, probably killing everyone but Oliver Queen?

Surely, we're not expected to believe Mayor Queen took his nearest and dearest to Lian Yu for a luxury vacation, not when Tahiti or Rio are much better destinations with more varieties of cuisine and hospitable lodgings. This blogger is pretty sure you can't get decent mai tais on Lian Yu.

Does it have anything to do with Deputy Mayor Lance's collusion last year with Damien Darhk, the man who almost single-handedly destroyed Star City? I'd say the military involvement could point to such an answer. I wouldn't be surprised to learn it was Lance who kidnapped the rest of the mayor's friends and family and held them hostage on the island. I suspect we'll find out in the coming weeks that Lance found a new master to whom to play lackey and used his leverage with the Queen family to claim a government position he certainly didn't earn.

Star City has had a string of mayors in the past few years as nearly every criminal mastermind to set sights on our home has needed to either corrupt or kill the city's leadership in order to take over. Oliver Queen has been, despite being particularly unqualified for the job, both committed to it and to Star City, and rather harder to kill than our previous mayors.

Of course, that also makes him unsuitable dating material. That's right girls, this edition of Date Him or Ditch Him finds Oliver Queen just too damn dangerous to date. Sink your hooks into safer waters, ladies, there are plenty of other fish in the sea.

* * *

 **Chapter 2:Verse 6**

 _Somewhere in Space and Time._

Curtis thought he was dead in the water. He'd felt dead. Even being underwater hadn't lessened the concussive force of hundreds of explosions as Lian Yu went up in a fiery conflagration the likes of which he'd never imagined let alone lived through. At that, he still wasn't entirely sure how he survived, only that surviving may not have actually been to his benefit. Which is the last thought he ever thought he'd have, but it was hard not to think it when he woke up trapped in a dark prison.

 _Just get through this. Get through this and you can go to Paul and tell him you're done. Tell him it's over, you're finished playing superhero. Oh God, just help me through this and I swear I'll never even_ look _at a mask ever again._

"God isn't listening."

Curtis' head snapped up. In the doorway stood a man he knew from pictures and stories, but whom he'd never met personally. Of course, in the pictures his face hadn't looked like melted putty on one side. This guy was supposed to be Oliver and Felicity's friend, and a _good_ person. The way Felicity talked about him it was obvious if Oliver hadn't been there—and for a woman named Iris—things would have been more than friendly between them.

And Oliver called him one of the best men he knew.

"Y-You're Barry, right? Barry Allen. "Oliver and Felicity talk about you a lot, you're like their personal hero which is saying something coming from Oliver because you know with the whole… Green Arrow… thing."

"I'm not Barry," he said. Curtis couldn't remember ever seeing eyes so cold. Even Adrian Chase hadn't been cold, he'd burned hot and his eyes were the same. Like the fires of Hell. This guy, though, whoever the fancied himself to be, was ice from the inside out. The chill in his one good eye actually made Curtis shiver. He knelt, his half-face level with Curtis', searching. Whatever he found made his mouth twitch in a smirk. "You really don't know me, do you?"

"N-No. I mean… like I said, Oliver talks about you. And F-Felicity. So I kind of know you but not really _know_ you know you. Should I? Have we m-met?"

"Once. A long time ago. Longer for me than for you." He shrugged and stood. "Doesn't matter. Only one thing matters, Curtis, and that's what you can do for me. Do what I ask and only what I ask—no heroics—and I'll take you home." The smile he gave Curtis was not at all reassuring, and Curtis suspected he knew it very well. "I'll take you right to Paul's doorstep if you like."

Fear, like no fear he'd ever known, blossomed outward from his heart. He knew, in that second, why Oliver always tried to hide Felicity away in the bunker, hide Thea, keep his loved ones out of the line of fire. "Please don't hurt Paul."

"Good. You understand." Not-Barry pointed to a door adjacent to the one he'd entered. "Your tools, plans, and materials are in there. Get to work."

Curtis nodded and the man left him alone. He went to the room as indicated, where he found a treasure trove. For just a second, a nightmare turned into a dream as he recognized the material sitting in a box on the nearest table. "Oh my God, that's strange metal. Oh my God. I'm going to work with strange metal."

His excitement died when he looked at the plans for _what_ , exactly, he was supposed to make with the strange metal. The armor as detailed in those plans would make a speedster nearly invincible. A speedster old enough or traveled enough would gain so much speed as to be unable to control all the static electric energy they generated; this armor would mitigate that, allowing said speedster to keep their astounding velocity and use all the excess energy to power the suit and some pretty deadly extras. He couldn't make this and leave it in the hands of someone like…

A speedster. Barry Allen, Oliver and Felicity's good friend Barry Allen who lived in _Central City,_ the same place that just so happened to be the Flash's stomping grounds.

"Barry Allen is the Flash!" He laughed and pumped a fist, pleased to have made the connection.

It died as quickly as his excitement over the strange metal when he made the next connection.

"… and apparently the Flash is evil now."


End file.
